I have only heard and read about what it feels like to be head over heels for horses when you're a kid, so I couldn't give Maddie fair shakes as anything more than a minor character, an ear, a BFF. Maddie will live on only in old drafts of my middle grade novel-in-verse, and in our memories.
|This week's Poetry Friday host is
Kathy at Merely Day by Day.
It is now time to say goodbye to another of my favorite characters from THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY.
|Most names in the book were carefully selected.
My ensemble of characters may be the only team that Joe's ever been cut from.
If you read the working blurb for my book -- kind of like an expanded elevator pitch -- you'll see why I permanently benched Joe:
Bulldozers crouch outside Emerson Elementary, as if they long to eat the school in one gulp. It's up to fifth grade history buff George Furst and his friends to save the not-quite historic building from demolition. George has no clue how to organize a fifth grade full of crush-obsessed, experiment-exploding hamster haters into a protest, but unless he unites their class against the powerful Board of Education, George and his friends will be THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY.
With the click of a delete button, I erased Joe and the entire kickball game thread from my working draft.
I'm really sad about this one. I felt as if Joe's voice fit his poems well, not just in topic but also in form. Joe was the best concrete poem writer in Miss Hill's (imaginary) fifth grade class. What he didn't fit was the narrative arc of the story.
First Quarter Poem
The Poem I Found on My Cast
Second Quarter Poem
By Joe O’Day
Break a leg, man! Ha ha, Jay
Mary R♥se: Glad you’re okay.
Come back to kickball L from Katie
Suck it up! We need you, Sydney
Jason took my line, Dude (Ben)
Rajesh Rao: Feel better, friend!
This is Newton Mathews, Hi.
Thanks for letting me sign. Ty
Mark: Slow Joe? The end is near!
Super Ash was here
(This poem works a lot better when you are familiar with the cast (!) of characters in Miss Hill's class. Every fifth grader who signed Joe's cast made it into the final version of my novel.)
Like a Cheetah
Third Quarter Poem
By Joe O’Day
When I run, I’m like a cheetah,
a blur of muscles flying past.
Nothing can catch me, not even your eye.
Blink once – I’m gone.
When I kick, I’m a mule.
I’m stubborn and that ball WILL
go over the fence.
I can make it fly.
When I catch, I’m like a Rottweiler.
I jump, trap the ball, and hang on.
Don’t try to take nothing away from me.
But when I’m in class, I’m like a horse
with saddle and reins.
I’ll go where you want. Do what you say.
And as soon as you let me loose
blink once – I’m gone.
|From National Geographic.
(This poem is based on one of the poetry prompts I often use with elementary schoolers. You can read the lesson "Animals Are like Feelings" at this post.)
I'm sneaking in one kickball poem -- also cut -- about Joe, but written by a Keeper Character. I couldn't resist sharing this poem, because I love Jason's sense of humor.
Shoe Fly Pie
By Jason Chen
There once was a kicker named Joe
who could kick a home run in the snow.
You say you want proof?
Look! His shoe’s on the roof,
where it startled a really big crow.
(P. S. Too bad, this poem has no pie in it.)
Just as in Spoon River Anthology, the poems in my novel have a way of talking to one another. Characters reveal things about themselves, but also about their classmates. Events are described from more than one point of view.
Blue Ribbon Poem
Fourth Quarter Poem
Writerly Friends, do you have any stories of characters loved and lost? Please share in your comments. Or, better yet, sign up to guest post about the poem, character, or plot you cut. I'm looking for a few good bloggers to feature in the Kill Your Darlings series.
Last, I'm glad so many of you thought that THE BOOK PHANTOMS would make a great novel. That's my next writing project, in the planning stages now! I'm so excited about this idea. Look for a YA speculative fiction novel about a character who won't let herself be deleted without a fight. Her teenage would-be author won't know what hit him (but it might be a meat cleaver. Long story.) Let's just hope this book doesn't take me another five years.